In My Head
by LostCause1011
Summary: What was supposed to be a simple exorcism, turns into so much more. Dean/OC
1. Chapter 1

Dean had not wanted to do this case. In fact he was positive it wasn't a case a all. But all Sam had to do was whine and beg until he had finally given in. Now here he was in white scrubs, pushing a medicine cart down the C wing of Westwood Psychiatric Facility for Women. According to Sam, they needed to save a possessed woman named Fiona Gambril. She had stabbed her father in the temple with a pair of safety scissors, screaming of demons and devils. Dean personally thought she was just a crazy bitch.

But the picture he had conceived in his mind was not the site he was greeted with, as he walked into her room. She sat on her bed, her skin pale from the lack of sunlight, and bruised from he wasn't sure what. Her hair was long and black, knotted in curls down her back. The thing the shocked him the most was the intensity of her eyes, at first glance they were grey but really they were a pale lavender.

"So surprised I'm not a crazy bitch." She muttered, staring straight at him, his thoughts echoed back to him eerily. "They always are you know, they just act like I am." Her eyes roamed the walls, "Come to poison me some more?"

"Christos," Dean muttered, picking up her medicine and water.

Her eyes went to his immediately, a bark of laughter escaping her throat, "Dropping Latin accusations." She smirked slyly, and stood up, "How rude." She held out her hand for the items, which he gave to her and she peered into the water, "And you blessed the water yourself." Dean didn't know what to think, as she laid a hand on his shoulder, "What is going through that head of yours?" She murmured, her eyes flickering shut.

Dean wasn't sure what to say 'sorry I thought you were possessed by the yellow eyed demon'; she already seemed to know that. Was she psychic, or maybe something completely different all together. "I'm sorry if I offended you." Was what he decided on, and she opened her eyes.

"You thought I was a demon, is that nothing but offensive?" She inquired, downing the medicine and holy water, "Look ma no smoke!" She teased, flashing a brilliant smile. "You've got a lot to learn Dean." Before he could question how she knew his name, another man in white scrubs came in, Fiona's smile vanishing instantly.

"Having trouble in here?" The man asked, not really bothering to look at Dean at all.

"You are the trouble Marshall." Fiona spat, sitting on her bed with her back pressed firmly against the headboard, and her knees to her chest. "I've taken my poison. You don't need to be here."

"Then why are you still here, Roberts?" Marshall questioned, and Fiona's attention was back on Dean.

"Roberts? That doesn't suit you at all." She told him. "We were having a conversation." She redirected back at Marshall, "It's where two people who actually like each other talk about things of meaning. I know such things are foreign to you." Marshall bristled, and Fiona's face darkened, "Big thoughts for such a little boy." She whispered, "Oh you'll show me."

"You still have the rest of the wing to get to, Roberts." Marshall said curtly, before heading out the door. Fiona didn't offer anymore bits of conversations or smiles, instead she wound her hands into to tight fists around her knotted curls, until Dean finally left.

Two hours later she was being wheeled down to isolation, strapped tightly to a gurney. She caught Dean's eye, "They'll never understand." She whimpered, blood dribbling down her bruised lip, struggling against the binds, "I can't help it. Such thoughts, such ugly, ugly thoughts. Why am I here?" It broke Dean's heart as she was taken out of sight, in so much obvious pain. I didn't, however, go unnoticed that Marshall was no longer looking over his first day.

Dean hurried through his other remedial tasks, before leaving the facility as quickly as possible. Sam was sitting in the impala, surfing through his computer, when Dean got in the car. "So, is it out?"

"She's not possessed," Dean told him, pulling away from the curb and heading down the road.

"She's seriously crazy?" Sam was surprised, he had seen her in his dream. She was sitting next to Dean, completely sane and coherent, in the dream, yet now she a lunatic, how was this possible if possession wasn't the answer.

"I don't think she's crazy." Dean muttered, "I really have no clue what's going on in their, but I have a feeling it's our type of job." Dean glanced over at the laptop to see it open to Facebook, "What are you doing?"

"Looking at Fiona's profile, seeing if there was a point where things get weird, but as far as I can tell she's a normal twenty year old girl." Sam sighed, "Well except for stabbing her dad."

"You don't think maybe her Dad was possessed or something? Maybe she was trying to defend herself?" Dean suggested. He was about to pull away when he saw Marshall walk from the building, sporting a scratched up face, and red knuckles. Dean's thoughts instantly went Fiona's bloody mouth, and his rage boiled over, "All I know is we need to get her out of there."


	2. Chapter 2

It was another week before Fiona was released from Isolation. Dean had, much to Sam's dismay, chosen to stay and work at the Institution, until he could help Fiona. Her eyes stuck in his mind, their soul searching depth haunting his dreams. "Page for Roberts," An intercom beeped loudly overhead, "Roberts, you're needed in Room 244."

Dean handed the patient he was caring for his medication, before heading out the door, pushing his cart as he went. As he neared the room, which from his night time sweep of the facility, he knew as the Head Doctor's office, he could hear the familiar screeching of Fiona.

"Lies!" She screamed, "Why do you lie? I'm not supposed to be here." Dean knocked quietly on the door, causing a brief pause in her rambling, "He's here. He knows the truth." She mumbled, and the door opened, revealing a much disheveled Fiona and an irritated Dr. Holden.

"You needed me?" Dean asked, his eyes soaking up Fiona's appearance. There were thick bruises around her wrists and ankles, no doubt from being strapped down, her hair was in a knotted tangle of mess, but her eyes shone through.

"Yes, Roberts." Dr. Holden nodded, peering in to a folder that sat on his desk. "You've met Fiona, correct?"

"Once, briefly." He nodded, casting a glance back at Fiona who was staring intently. He wanted to pick her up and run out the door, save her from this atrocity that was called 'help'.

Fiona flashed a killer smile, which seemed to shock Dr. Holden, "I know that you are new, and most usually start by pushing the medicine carts, but Fiona seems to like you."

"That's big news." Fiona chirped, "I don't like anyone."

"Fiona has Paranoid Schizophrenia with religious themed delusions." Dr. Holden continued on as if Fiona hadn't spoken. "We've had instances where she has believed that some of the staff were demons, and she doesn't trust anyone since we 'allowed to demons to enter'." That peaked Dean's interest greatly. If demons were after the girl, then maybe Sam wouldn't be so pissed we were still in town.

"What does that have to do with me?" Dean asked, watching Fiona push her tangled mess of hair out of her face.

"She seems to think you're an angel." Dr. Holden stated, "Now usually we don't encourage delusions, however, you seem to be the only person on the staff she trusts."

"I never said he was an angel." Fiona snapped, "I know the difference between an empty vessel and a full one, thank you very much." Dean's eyes widened significantly, "You've got angels nearby though. The demons fear them when they visit."

"I apologize, Fiona." Dr. Holden sighed, "I was mistaken, you're a vessel for an angel to come down from heaven and take over your body." He corrected, obviously tired of her 'delusions'. "We need you to be Fiona's monitor; she needs to be supervised during the daytime."

"And you want me to?" Dean asked surprised, this was becoming easier for him by the minute.

"If that's not a problem, Fiona's due in her morning Group Therapy in one hour, you can take her to the courtyard if you'd like, she hasn't been outside in a while." Fiona shot up as fast as she could, making her way towards the door.

Dean smiled at this, letting her by and following her out. He waited until they reached a completely empty corridor , "How do you know I'm a vessel?" He asked softly, and she turned with a smile, "How do you know all about demons and angels."

"Same way I know that you and Sam are going to break me out of here by Wednesday, or we all die." She said, in a sing-song voice. "But to pull it off I can't keep taking that poison?"

"Your meds?" He asked, and he was suddenly confronted with a pair of malicious eyes.

"I am not **sick**. These pills make me crazy. I can't think right, I can't even remember the words of that exorcism you were going to use on me. Or how to make a Key of Solomon. It's all warped and mixed in with crazy thoughts." She turned away from him, "I'm not crazy, Dean. I can just see better than most."

"So you're psychic?" Dean concluded, walking behind her, "Wait how do you know what exorcism I was going to use?"

"You were chanting it, over and over again so you wouldn't forget, you're not as good in Latin as Sam."

"How do you know Sam?" Dean demanded, a little worried that maybe he was putting his trust into the wrong person.

"You think about him more than most people think about their siblings. You're worried he'll say yes to Lucifer, you're worried that he's lying about stopping the demon blood, and you want to hit him in the face for starting the apocalypse." She grinned, placing a hand to his temple, "It's all right there loud and clear."

That's when it dawned on him, "You're a telepath."


End file.
